by Terry Mixon
Jared gave the scientist a steady look. “Then you’d best get busy. We don’t have much time for you to find a solution.”
The man nodded. “It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to put them back together. We were worried they might be damaged if we attempted to power them on, but we don’t have a choice now.”
The scientist strode to a worktable. He opened several clear plastic bins. “I hope it doesn’t matter that we removed them from the bodies. If it tries to access the brains of the dead Fleet personnel and errors out there’s nothing we can do.”
He laid out the odd strands of hair thin wires and circular units the size of a small coin on the table. He put on magnifying goggles and picked up some delicate tools to work on one of the units. “We developed these tools when we saw how the other units had to be disassembled. The method is quite ingenious.”
Jared couldn’t really see anything, but he could determine the man’s progress when he removed a thin shell from each of the three units of the implant. The small object he removed from each with a set of tweezers was about the size of the tip on a writing stylus. If that was a power supply, it was incredible. Just like most things the old Empire had built.
Leonard took the tiny power units from another implant and put them in the first set of implants. Once he had the covers on the units, he grabbed a headset. It had a cable going to a standalone computer. As soon as he taped the last of the three into the headset, the screen started filling with long lines of what looked like gibberish.
“It’s attempting to boot,” Leonard said. “We don’t really need to attach them to the headset. They have effective short-range communication, good for perhaps ten meters, but the transmissions and data throughput are significantly quicker with the headsets in place. Probably why they wore them. It’s online! We wrote a program to access the code and this looks like it’s working.”
“Can you tell what the differences are? Perhaps we can find where the alterations were made and correct them.”
The scientist nodded. “Possibly. It will take a few minutes to collect all the code. If they are similar, we should be able to compare them. We still don’t understand the programming language, though. If the changes to the programming are widespread, I wouldn’t want to go mucking around with it in a living being. I can only imagine what that could do to them.”
“Can you make changes?”
“That remains to be seen. One would imagine there is a mechanism for updates. It probably isn’t something that could happen by accident or perhaps even easily. If I were designing something like this, the access codes to make changes would be hardware specific. Only authorized units could write to these. That authentication would need to be very complex. That said, it might not be impossible to read it directly off the hardware itself.”
“Would recovering installation hardware be helpful?”
The man nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely! It would be optimal if you could recover reference material, the actual programming, or installation machinery. We should be able to access it and replace whatever malicious code we find. One of my graduate students is my coding expert and he’s the one examining the Pale Ones programming.”
“You brought a graduate student? I thought everyone on that ship was a doctor.”
“Carl Owlet is a true genius with computers. I’m surprised that Doctor Cartwright didn’t assign him to Courageous. He might once they are ready to bring the main computer back online.”
The computer beeped and Leonard examined the screen. “There are some rather significant areas where the code is different. I think we need to let Carl take a look.” He brought out his communicator and summoned the other man.
Make that boy. If Carl Owlet were old enough to shave regularly, Jared would eat his beret. The graduate student looked about sixteen standard years old.
Owlet listened intently as Doctor Leonard filled him in on recent developments and then sat at the computer. He typed on the remote keypad so quickly that Jared could barely see his fingers. He typed more quickly than most people spoke.
The screen split into two displays and began scrolling through the code. The computer had highlighted many areas. “This is definitely the same base code as in the Pale Ones, Captain. I can see what looks like version markers buried in the comments. The repetitive pattern of the matches tells me that someone compromised the original code. There also seems to be some extra code in this marine implant.”
“Can you tell what the extra code does?”
The boy shook his head. “No, sir. I’ll keep working on it.”
“Are there too many changes to correct the original code?”
The boy nodded. “Manually correcting the code requires understanding how it interacts with the hardware and I’m not there yet. I doubt many old Empire people really knew this in any detail. It would take teams of dedicated programmers working for many years to develop code of this complexity. I know that I wouldn’t want to trust my brain to something that hadn’t gone through rigorous testing.”
“But you think they did update the code in implanted hardware?”
“I’ve been examining the hardware for the last few days and found a method to make the memory writable. None of the equipment we have could do it, but something must exist. System updates after installation. Security patches, though obviously that didn’t work out so well.”
Jared considered that. “The old Fleet personnel were captured and their implants were reprogrammed. That makes it possible. Hopefully we can find the equipment in question. I hope we find Kelsey before anything happens, but we can’t count on that.
“Doctor, Mister Owlet, I want you both to be ready to assist Doctor Stone when we recover the Princess. Start thinking about how we update the programming because we may have to try.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Reality slowly intruded on Kelsey’s oblivion. The first thing she recognized was cold metal pressed against her cheek. Painfully cold. It actually felt good compared to the throbbing in her head. She’d had bad headaches before, but this one threatened to crush her brain. Every pulse of her heart sent fresh agony through her skull.
She started to move, but stopped when she heard grunting. That didn’t sound like one of the marines. She doubted the Royal Fleet officers communicated that way, either. That only left the Pale Ones.
That meant she was in very, very deep trouble.
Kelsey cracked an eyelid and tried not to moan when a shaft of intense brightness burned her retina. Okay, the light only seemed bright because of her headache, but the pain made her eyes water.
Clarity came after a minute of focusing. A man’s arm lay in front of her face. The color of the uniform told her it was one of her marines and he wasn’t moving.
Definitely not good.
She looked over him and saw two men facing one another. Pale Ones, presumably. Both wore what amounted to filthy loincloths. Why they weren’t just naked she had no idea. Hideous scars covered their bodies. Red, puckered lines trailed down each of their limbs. Even their fingers had horrible scarring.
Both had long, matted hair that hung below their waists. If either of them saw a comb, she’d be willing to bet he tried to eat it. They were as filthy as their clothes. She could smell their stench from across the room.
They faced one another and communicated by snarls and grunts. At least she assumed they were communicating. Or they might be posturing for dominance. Maybe both.
The marine’s arm moved and he groaned. He rolled over and sat up. That got the attention of the Pale Ones. They both snarled in his direction.
The marine, Corporal Brand, climbed unsteadily to his feet. He reached for his weapon, but his holster was empty. He swore and staggered toward the Pale Ones, obviously intending to take them hand-to-hand.
That worked out surprisingly poorly for him. The nearly naked men fell into what looked like martial arts stances. One grabbed the marine’s fist as he swung it and twisted him around, w
hile the other kicked low and swept the marine off his feet. The one holding Brand’s fist kicked him hard in the gut.
The Corporal tried to fight, but they simply tossed him back onto the deck beside Kelsey where he lay moaning.
“Brand? Are you okay?” She sat up, but didn’t climb to her feet. The two Pale Ones watched her, growling, but didn’t attack.
The Corporal clutched his stomach. “That guy kicks like an avalanche. They barely look like they can stand. How can they fight like that?”
“Was that some kind of martial art?”
“It sure looked like it, but that makes no sense.”
They waited and the rest of marines slowly regained consciousness. The Pale Ones had taken their weapons, both pistols and knives. She had no idea how a savage knew what a gun was.
The two Royal Fleet officers sat against the wall, terror clearly etched on their faces. Talbot eyed the Pale Ones for a minute. “We can take them together.”
Kelsey had been examining the room. It was obviously a ship’s compartment, but there were no furnishings. It was easily as big as the briefing room on Athena. They could pile dozens of people in here without too much crowding. The only exit was a single hatch behind the two savages.
One of the Pale Ones howled and beat his chest. That was definitely a challenge.
The hatch opened and a short woman stepped inside. She was also a Pale One based on her personal hygiene. She wore a loincloth similar to the males. She wore no top and it was evident she never had. She looked a decade older than the two males.
The woman shoved the man who’d howled, sending him staggering to the side. He postured at her, but didn’t counterattack.
The marines rose as a unit and charged the three Pale Ones. Sergeant Talbot actually laid a solid hit on the woman’s head.
It barely fazed her. She grinned and caught his second punch in her hand, stopping him dead in his tracks. Kelsey couldn’t see what she did, but it was fast. Talbot went flying over the woman’s shoulder and into the wall. The bone jarring impact made her wince.
The rest of the scene looked like a badly done fight vid. In less than twenty seconds, all the marines were on the deck, which only made them easier to kick.
She thought the Pale Ones would kill them and leapt to her feet, screaming. “Leave them alone!”
That stopped the fight, but only so the woman could come over and backhand her. It felt as if someone had hit her with a sledgehammer. Kelsey flew off her feet and skidded on the deck. She didn’t try to get up and instead laid there. Moaning was all she could manage.
The woman snarled at her, but didn’t strike Kelsey again. She stalked back over to the men and tossed the marines back beside Kelsey. All of them were conscious, but Talbot looked like he might have a concussion.
“Well, that could’ve gone better,” he mumbled. “Don’t tell anyone that a mostly naked woman kicked my ass.”
Kelsey suspected she wasn’t going to have the opportunity to tell anyone anything, though she was praying for it. “How can they do that?”
The man shrugged. “It can’t be training. It has to be in the implants. It would make sense to have basic combat skills programmed in. I can see the pattern in their fighting. If I had a weapon I might be able to take one.”
“But we don’t. How are we going to escape?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we’re still in Pentagar space and we’ll be rescued.”
She looked at her chrono. “I don’t think so. We were out almost four hours. Whatever that weapon was, it really took us down. At least my headache is getting better.”
They waited a few more minutes and then attacked again. The results were just as one-sided as before. The Pale Ones seemed incredibly tough. Kelsey noted how their reactions seemed so much faster than the marines.
The pattern of their fighting was plain once she knew to look for it. They only had a few basic moves and seemed to use them by rote. In this case, that was all they needed to do. The woman could’ve been absent and the two men would’ve beaten them all senseless.
Kelsey rose to her feet as soon as the marines engaged the next time and sprinted around the fight toward the hatch. She ducked on general principle and the punch that one of them threw at her barely brushed the top of her skull.
She ran through the open hatch and found herself in a control room. Two Pale Ones sat at the controls and their hands moved with robotic smoothness. They didn’t react to her presence at all. She fleetingly wondered why they didn’t use the old Empire headsets.
The screen beyond them showed a large space station at extremely close range. It looked like a five year-old had built it.
A wide hatch opened in front of the ship. Going through it was probably going to be even worse for them. She searched around frantically and saw the marines pistols tossed onto the deck. She grabbed one, spun, and shot the female Pale One as she leapt through the door.
Kelsey shot the woman twice more before she landed on her like a runaway grav car. She tore the weapon from Kelsey’s hand with no effort at all. The she-beast nearly beat her unconscious before one of the men dragged Kelsey back into the room by her hair and tossed her on top of the marines.
She watched through the hatch as the woman she’d shot stood and moved around as though she hadn’t been shot. At least for a minute. She didn’t even try to staunch the flow of blood from her wounds.
Then she staggered a little and fell to her knees. The men watched her eyes glaze over and didn’t seem bothered as she collapsed. One of them even kicked her while she bled to death.
Kelsey knew she should feel something. She’d just killed someone. All she felt was physical pain, despair, and anger. They were going to become monsters like those.
The ship bounced like it had hit something. Then the engine noise faded. They were inside the station. The whoosh of a hatch opening filled her with dread.
Half a dozen male and female Pale Ones swarmed in and grabbed them. Talbot tried to struggle, but they kicked him until he stopped. They were clearly satisfied to drag him out of the ship by his legs.
He looked back at her as they took him down an exit ramp. “Good job, Princess. At least you got one. See you on the other side.”
The hulking mob dragged them into the bay she’d seen opening. It looked big enough to hold dozens of ships. Instead, it held three that she could see. Theirs and two shot up wrecks. They looked like they’d been sitting there for years.
The Pale Ones took them to a lift attached to the landing bay. A large hatch sat next to it. Dust and debris covered the lift floor. Everything stank. The Royal officers whimpered, three of the marines appeared unconscious and Talbot seemed to be praying.
Not a bad idea.
She whispered one for them all. Not for their lives, but that they would die quickly. Whatever came after death would be better than this.
The lift creaked up several decks and the doors wheezed open. The creatures then pulled them quite a distance and made their way down a number of side corridors. She saw a skeleton in the dust. It wore the scraps of some kind of uniform. The color led her to believe it was a Royal Fleet tunic. The filthy marks on the floor showed where they’d dragged others. Many others.
Kelsey wondered how many of them had seen the dead Royal and wished they could die, too. Perhaps she should’ve used that pistol on herself.
The corridor continued into the distance, but the tracks through the muck made it obvious that all the prisoners went into one room. Her captor took them into what looked like a medical center. A bed on rollers sat just short of a machine shaped to fit all around it.
The Pale Ones tossed all of the prisoners into what had probably once been an office. The marines talked about rushing their captors, but it would be suicidal. There were just too many of them. So they watched as another Pale One deposited their equipment into a large bin.
Kelsey expected the foul creatures to do something quickly, but the Pale Ones seemed content to watch them f
or the next four hours. Only when a new Pale One entered the compartment did most of the rest leave. The new one looked like the pilots on the ship. An automaton. He stood beside one of the machines and waited.
Two of the Pale Ones came into the room. One threw the marines aside while the other grabbed her. He dragged her out and threw her on the bed. Two others held her down while he strapped her in. They cinched the straps brutally tight.
She wanted to scream, but she bit her lip. She didn’t know why. Maybe she wanted to meet her end with all the courage she could muster. That was one thing they could never take from her.
The Pale Ones pushed the bed into the machine. Darkness shrouded her and then a low light came on.
“Do not be alarmed,” a soft male voice said with an accent she couldn’t place. “This scanning process will not hurt.”
She swallowed. “Who are you? What are you doing?”
“This unit is Diagnostic Scanning Workstation Twelve. This unit will scan your brain prior to the implanting process and make the final adjustment to the implant hardware before it is installed.”
“You’re a Terran Empire machine? You know that the Fleet is long dead and that you’re making these devices to implant in people against their will, don’t you? I do not consent to this process. Stop this at once!”
The voice took on a tinge of regret. “This unit is unable to comply. Its programming has been modified to remove the consent protocol. This unit regrets the inconvenience.”
She laughed in spite of the horror. It regretted the inconvenience. “Who updated your programming?”
“That data is not in this unit’s memory. Please remain still for the scanning process.”
